Part 3 (1/2)

”Now, ma'am, consider yourself the owner of unlimited wealth,” said Nancy, as they swung briskly into the concourse of the Grand Central Station. ”You're a regular Cinderella, and _I'm_ your G.o.dmother, who is going to perform the stupendously brilliant, mystifying act of turning twenty rolls of sitting-room wall-paper, and three coats of brown paint into--five yards of superb silk, two silver slippers, two silk stockings, and three yards of silver ribbon; or, one simple country maiden into a fas.h.i.+onable miss of entrancing beauty.”

”Nancy, you're the most angelic person!” squealed Alma. ”But aren't you going to get yourself something, too? It makes me feel awfully mean to get new things when you have to wear that dowdy old yellow thing.”

”Dowdy, indeed. It's grand. 'Miss Nancy Prescott was charming in a simple gown of mousseline-de-soie, which hung in the straight lines now so much in vogue. Her only ornaments were a bouquet of rare flowers, contrasting exquisitely with the shade of her frock,--a toilette of unusual chic. Miss Alma Prescott, Melbrook's noted beauty, was superb in a lavish creation'--You're going to be awfully lavish, and quite the belle of the ball.”

”You ought to have some new slippers, Nancy--a pair of gold ones would absolutely _make_ your dress.”

”My black ones are all right. I'll put fresh bows on them,” said Nancy, firm as a Trojan outwardly, though within her resolution wavered. Dared she take another seven dollars? She began to feel reckless.

”Are you waited on, madam?” The smooth voice of a saleswoman roused her from her calculations.

”We want to see some blue taffeta--not awfully expensive.”

”Step this way. We have something exquisite--five dollars a yard.”

”Oh, haven't you anything less than that?” stammered Nancy in dismay.

Alma glanced at her reprovingly.

”For heaven's sake, don't sound as if you hadn't a dollar to your name, or she'll just right-about-face and walk off,” she whispered. ”We'll _look_ at the expensive silk, and then work around to the cheaper--explain that it's more what we want, and so on.”

”Yes, and the cheaper silk will look so impossible after we've seen the other that we'll be taking it,” returned Nancy. ”_I_ know their wiles.”

”Here is a beautiful material--quite new,” lured the saleswoman. ”A wonderful shade. It will be impossible to duplicate. See how it falls--as softly and gracefully as satin, but with more body to it.

The other is much stiffer.”

”How--how much is it?” asked Nancy feebly.

”Five-ninety-eight. It's special, of course. Later on the regular price will be six-fifty.”

”Isn't it _lovely_?” breathed Alma, touching the gleaming stuff with careful fingers.

”Have--have you anything for about three dollars a yard?” asked Nancy, wis.h.i.+ng that Alma would do the haggling sometimes.

The saleswoman listlessly unrolled a yard or two from another bolt and held it up.

”Is it for yourself, madam? Or for the other young lady?”

”It's for my sister. Let me hold this against your hair, Alma.”

”It's not nearly so nice as the other, of course,” observed Alma, in a casual tone. ”It's awfully stiff, and the color's sort of washed out.

I really think----”

”Oh, of course, this paler shade is not nearly so effective at night,”

agreed the saleswoman, pouncing keenly upon her prey. ”See how beautifully this deeper color brings out the gold in the young lady's hair. Would you like to take it to the mirror, miss?”

”Oh, don't, Alma!” begged Nancy, in comical despair. ”Of course there isn't any comparison.” She felt herself weakening. ”I--I suppose this would really wear better too.”

”Of course it would,” said Alma, quickly. ”That other stuff is so stiff it would split in no time.”